Risk
by CynicalRomantic09
Summary: One-shot. Set four months after "London Calling." Jude is offered a six-month world tour and she's ecstatic. But what happens when the man she turned down four months ago shows up again? What will she choose? Jommy.


Hey all! This is a new one-shot that I just worked on. I had been thinking about the ending of the show a lot lately and just really wanted to get a more-Jommy friendly ending out of my system. I wrote it super-late, so my apologies if it's not that great. Let me know what you think! Comments are awesome!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Instant Star.

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**Risk**

Four months after my sudden departure from Canada, I found myself staring out the window, watching the tiny rain droplets run down the glass. As I looked out at my surroundings, I marveled at the sight before me—it was, after all, everything I had wanted. I had left everything near and dear to me behind for this.

But why did I feel so empty inside?

This was what I wanted; it was what _I_ had chosen, so why should _his_ face still be haunting me? Every night, I see the pained, wounded look that had graced his features on my last performance. I shuddered at the memory.

"_You have mail_."

My head snapped towards my laptop as the automated message came up. As I walked over to the desk, my heart sped up and for a moment, I was certain that even my neighbors could probably hear it pounding.

It seemed so ridiculous to get so anxious over an e-mail, but I couldn't help it. This e-mail I was expecting was more important than anything to me. But I had yet to receive a reply.

Last week, I had broken down and sent Tommy a message. I know that e-mail is a tacky way to go, but I was a chicken, plain and simple.

Disappointment washed over me as I saw that it was just from my sister. I'm happy that she's keeping in touch with me and everything, but I couldn't help the sadness that was weighing down on my heart.

I don't know why I had gotten my hopes up. After all, I should have known better. I should have known that it wouldn't have been from Tom Quincy. It would never be from Tommy and the sooner I accepted that, the better off I would be.

Inadvertently, my mind wandered back to our time in New Brunswick when I had met him at the jail. I had been so angry with him for just giving up on us so quickly. I didn't understand why it had always been so easy for him to just give us up like that. He had never in his life, not once, fought for me.

Sure, there was the whole thing with Jamie, but there was really no competition there. And he knew that.

The closest he had ever come to fighting for me was when I had been with Shay. I know that he had tried his damnedest to keep me away from him, but I had been stupid and rebelled. In the end, it hadn't done me any good. I had made a horrible mistake, made my relationship with Tommy almost unbearable, and had gotten myself humiliated on national television. _Score one for Jude_, I thought to myself sarcastically.

Anyway, perhaps I was so sad because he had just let me walk away. At first, I had been grateful to him for respecting my wishes and giving me my space, but now, the more and more I thought about it, the angrier I became.

I had said yes to him! He had asked me to marry him; I was getting everything I had ever wanted. I was finally, _finally_ with Tom Quincy—the man that I had been obsessing over since I had been fifteen years old.

And I had thrown it all away. And he had let me.

I think that was what hurt the most, knowing that he didn't have enough fight in him to ask me to stay, to ask me to reconsider. He hadn't even tried.

Why was it always so easy for him to let me go?

I felt a stray tear fall down my cheek and I angrily wiped it away. Crying wouldn't make things better; it wouldn't make the hurt I had caused him to go away. Crying wouldn't bring him here to London, where I had wanted him to be all along. Crying wouldn't let me be in his arms… where _I_ belonged.

I closed out my e-mail account, not bothering to read the message from Sadie. It hurt too much to think about home right now.

Deciding that I needed to regroup and get a hold of myself, I started for my bedroom to switch outfits. And, after I had changed into my sweatpants and a dingy, old sweatshirt, I was getting ready to get the ice cream that was crucial to any moping session when a knock at the door interrupted my dreary mood. "Damn," I muttered under my breath.

When I opened the door, my manager was standing on the other side. Inwardly I groaned. I was definitely not in the mood right now. He was too damn perky. Which, to me, equaled annoying. Sure, most girls would find him dangerously attractive with his dark brown hair and Hershey kiss brown eyes. I wasn't blind—there was definitely an attraction there. But, for the most part, he grated on my last nerve, which over-rode any possible romantic interactions with him. Plus, he was my manager. The last time I had dated within the work place, it didn't end up so well. No more of that for me.

Not unless it was with _him_, anyway.

"Hi James. What can I do for you?"

"Hello Judith," he said cheerfully with his dazzling smile.

"It's _Jude_," I said through clenched teeth. I hated it when he called me Judith. My name was not Judith.

"Yes well, I think Judith's adorable. Your parents should have put the 'ith' at the end of your name," he said with a smirk.

I gave him a fake smile. "Well, take it up with them sometime. If you can find them," I muttered under I breath.

I hadn't heard from my dad in a while. I had gotten a postcard from him about three weeks ago and that had been about the extent of our contact recently. My heart constricted as I thought of my dad—I missed him terribly. I wish I could see him right now. He'd know how to make this all better, how to help me fix my horrible mistake I had made.

"Anyway, the reason I'm here is because I have great news for you."

"What's that?" I asked cautiously. My interest was slightly peaked, though I was a little weary. His idea of great and my idea of great were two completely different things.

"We have a major tour in the works for you. It's world," he said with a grin. "It's going to be epic. The sky is the limit, Jude. They love you over here! You've really won them over, darling."

A genuine smile formed on my lips. That was great news! It was exactly the kind of thing I'd need. I was definitely looking for a distraction right now.

"That's awesome!"

James chuckled and nodded. "The label is so pleased with you right now. I wouldn't be surprised if we got some thank-you bonuses coming up," he said slyly. "Anyway, we're going to be planning out a big chunk of the itinerary for you tomorrow, but from what I can tell, it's already huge."

"Thanks James. This is wonderful news. I can't wait to get started!"

"Excellent," he said as he turned to head out the door. "You really are the real thing, Jude. In fact, I'd say you're better," he said with smirk before he closed the door behind him.

It hit me like a truck, completely knocking the wind out of me as I took in his words. A feeling of déjà vu washed over me as I listened to the words. I had been told the same thing once before a long time ago.

Bitterness swept through me as I looked around my empty apartment. What good was being the real thing—or better, as they like to say—if you had no one to share it with? I hadn't made a lot of friends since I had been here. That had never really been my strongest suit, anyway. There were no love interests, no family…

I had it all, and yet, I had nothing. At least, I didn't have what I really wanted. I didn't have what mattered the most.

I sucked it up, refusing to let the tears fall. I was stronger than that. I had to be.

I couldn't wallow on tour, after all. Sometimes, you just have to fake it until you make it. Somehow, that seemed easier to me than facing the harsh reality of my loneliness that I had brought upon myself.

As I was getting ready to resume heading towards my kitchen to get my much needed ice cream, there was another knock on the door. I let out a frustrated groan and clenched my fists. "You have _got_ to be kidding me!"

I rolled my eyes as I realized it was probably James again. He was so damned scattered brained sometimes. He most likely forgot to tell me something—like always. I would have laughed if I weren't so damn irritated.

I yanked the door open and started speaking before I even looked to see who it was. "What'd you forget James?"

"James? Have you moved on that quickly already, Big Eyes?"

My eyes stayed glued to the floor. It was like I had forgotten how to breath and suddenly, all of my surroundings became insignificant. The only thing I could focus on was the voice that I had just heard.

It was something I had dreamt about for months now. When I wasn't seeing the haunting look in his eyes when I had dumped him on stage, I was imagining this moment.

But now that it was here, I didn't know what to do with it.

Well for one, I knew it would help if I looked up. Yet, I was still staring at the ground; it was though my eyes refused to look up to see if it was really him. A part of me was terrified that my ears were deceiving me and that I had forgotten the sound of his voice already.

But I knew that was absurd. I would never forget. His voice, his face, his smell, everything about him would be burned in my brain, in my heart, until I died. I knew it as well as I knew my name.

Therefore, my ears couldn't have been playing tricks on me. So why was I so afraid to look up?

Before I knew what was happening, I felt a finger softly graze the skin under my chin. He willed me to look up.

"Jude? What's wrong?" he whispered, his voice failing to hide his confusion. "After that e-mail, I thought…"

He trailed off and as I finally let my eyes see something other than his shoes, I saw that his face was masked with determination, despite the fact that he was obviously confused.

"You got my e-mail?" I whispered.

He smiled and for a moment, I thought I would pass out. No wonder all those fangirls had swooned over him back in the day.

"Of course. That's why I'm here, Jude. Can I come in?"

I blinked, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, I wanted to open the door for him and let him in more than anything. But, on the other, I wasn't sure if it was the wisest decision. Even though I had realized that he was what I truly wanted, it still scared me. I still was afraid that we would fail—just like everybody had always thought we would.

He chuckled and cocked his head to the side. "That wasn't supposed to be a stumper, Jude."

"Oh. Sorry. Yeah, sure. Come on in. It's a little messy, though."

"I'm used to it," he said with another grin. Why was he so smiley? Why did he have to look so damn _good_?

Dread filled me as I realized that I was in a ratty old sweatshirt and sweatpants. I looked like a mess! He wasn't supposed to see me for the first time since our breakup with my hair in a ratty ponytail and me wearing an oversized sweatshirt that probably had stains on it! It was so unfair. I was supposed to look fabulous, heartbreaking. Not like I had just rolled out of bed!

I tried making myself look somewhat more decent by attempting to fix my ponytail—until I remembered there was a giant hole in the armpits of the sweatshirt I was wearing. Immediately, I lowered my arms to my sides, hoping he hadn't noticed the gaping hole in my clothing.

I could feel my cheeks flaming with embarrassment and it only got worse when he started laughing from the gut. "I've seen your bed head before, Jude. This is nothing new to me," he said smartly. "I actually prefer you this way. It's more natural," he said bluntly.

I was astounded. He was being so blunt, straightforward, and just so… un-Tommy like. What was his deal?

"Okay, so you looked confused right now."

"Very," I said. I was sure my face mirrored my feelings. I could never hide my feelings from him—not even the simple ones.

"Well, I'll get right to the point, then. When you chose London over me, I'm not going to lie… it sucked. It hurt worse than anything I could remember. I had thought we were finished for good," he added quietly.

Guilt overwhelmed me and I started to apologize, but he stopped me. He held his hand out and then started moving closer to me. My palms began to sweat and I could feel the familiar tingles he had always managed to bring out in me as he cupped my cheek.

"Your e-mail gave me hope, though."

My eyes narrowed. There had been nothing special in my e-mail. It had been a very awkward, impersonal letter. "Why?"

"Because. You didn't sound like you in it. When I read it, it was almost like you were trying _too_ hard. It let me believe that maybe, just maybe, you weren't as happy as you thought you would be over here. Are you?"

I felt like I was being cornered, like the pressure was on and if I gave the wrong answer, it would be game over. I wasn't prepared for this. So, I took the cowardly way out. Just like he had done so many times before. "You can't ask me that," I said quietly, weakly.

Suddenly, his hand moved away and the expression on his face turned so mad that it shocked me a little. "The hell I can't! I think I have a right to ask that."

Okay, now I was getting mad. Who was he to come all the way over here just to yell at me! "Oh, there's a shocker," I said sarcastically.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you think you have a right to everything!" I shouted angrily. "You've always been that way! You think just because you're Tom Quincy that—"

"Oh that's bullshit! You know I'm right on this Jude. I deserve an answer. You just don't want to give that to me." When I didn't say anything he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that you're happy—happier than you were with me."

I stayed silent. I couldn't do that. I couldn't tell him that I was happier than I was with him because it was a lie. I was the happiest I had ever been when I had been with him. He completed me. I knew that now. But, just because I knew it didn't necessarily mean I was ready to admit it. Why should I make this so easy on him when he let me walk away?

"What difference does it make?" I asked meekly.

His face grew thoughtful and he suddenly grinned. "None at all," he said truthfully.

"What?"

"I suppose your answer wouldn't make much difference," he repeated. "Because I have no intentions of leaving."

"What are you talking about?" I asked quickly, not daring to hope. Was he doing what I thought he was doing?

"That's why I came here. You asked me once why it was always so easy for me to throw us away. I lied when I answered—it's never been easy; when I watched you walk away that day, it nearly killed me. I hated myself for it. I was a mess after you left and I didn't know how to deal with it. I had never been as close to anybody as I was to you because I had never let myself be that close to anyone before. And then, the second time you walked away, it felt so much worse. That definitely wasn't easy, but I had wanted to respect your decision, so I let you go.

"But that's not exactly working out for me, girl. It wasn't easy and to be honest, I'm surprised I didn't follow you here sooner than this. These last few months have been anything _but_ easy and I realize it's because I need you in my life—I want you in my life. I've never fought for us because I never believed in us. But I do now.

"So I'm doing something about it this time. I'm not letting you walk away without a fight, Harrison. We belong together," he said firmly. "I still love you and I always will. Just like you'll always love me."

I didn't say anything and he grinned that cocky grin of his. He knew he was right. Just like he usually was.

He was leaning in, his lips getting dangerously close to mine. My heart was pounding wildly and I couldn't stop my own grin from forming. Just as his lips barely grazed mine, the phone rang.

He groaned. "Ignore it. I've waited too long to feel your lips on mine again."

And that did me in. I pulled him the rest of the way in and the phone was forgotten. The only thing that mattered was that he was kissing me again. I was vaguely away of the machine picking up. I didn't care.

"Jude, it's James. I have some news already. I've spoken with Leah and it looks like we've snagged you a six-month world tour. The details will be smoothed out within the week. Call me."

Tommy's lips froze on mine and I silently cursed James. Of course, he had to ruin the moment with his big mouth and he wasn't even here! Tommy slowly pulled away and I tried not to notice that my lips felt naked without his on mine. "World tour?" he choked out.

"Tommy…"

"World tour?" he asked again.

"I just found out today," I whispered quietly.

He cursed under his breath, but managed to keep himself calm. "So, what does that mean for us? Where do we go from here?"

I smiled as an idea hit me. It wasn't rocket science and the solution was simple. There was no issue. I realized that I could finally have the best of both worlds—if he would agree to it.

"Well, I guess we have six months to figure it out, don't we?"

Silence filled the room and my smile faltered. I suddenly wasn't so confident anymore as I took in the expression on his dazed face. Who ever had said silence was golden had to have been on crack.

"Tommy?" I prodded. "Will you please say something?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Without warning, he started pacing, barely looking at me. Abruptly, he stopped and got so close to me that our bodies practically collided. It was making it hard for me to concentrate with his body near me like this. My brain always became so muddled when he did this to me.

"Are you serious, Jude?"

"What?" I asked, feeling confused. I had actually forgotten for a moment what we had even been talking about, but as I backed away slightly, I remembered we were talking about my six-month world tour and I frowned. Why wouldn't I be serious?

"Are you serious?" he repeated.

"Tommy, I don't understand. Why would I lie?"

He let out a bitter chuckle and I suddenly realized what this was all about. It all seemed so familiar to me now. "We've been here before. I swear, it's like this is four months ago all over again," he said as his voice shook. "Don't toy with me, Jude. I don't know if I could handle it again."

As I looked in his eyes, I sadly recognized the fact that I had never seen him look quite this vulnerable before. He reminded me of a little boy, afraid of being disappointed again by something he had been promised.

I had no intentions of disappointing him again. I was in this until the end. I knew that better than anything now. "We have six months to figure us out," I repeated. I figured the best way to get the point across was repetition.

"But—"

"We have six months to figure us out."

He bit his lip and gazed into my eyes. "Six months?"

I smiled and nodded. "Months, years… does it matter?"

He grinned and inched closer to me as he shook his head, all signs of worry gone. "No."

"No?" I asked, remembering when he had shown me the motorcycles. I had a feeling the same memory was filtering through his mind at this very same moment.

His grin turned into a full smile as he snaked his arms around my waist. In return, I wrapped my own around his neck, pulling him closer to me as he answered, "No."

As we stayed in each other's arms, I knew I had to tell him that he was right—that I wasn't happier. "Tommy?"

"Hmm?"

"I missed you," I said quietly.

"Me too, babe. Me too."

As he walked us over to the couch and we adjusted our bodies to each other like it was second nature, it hit me that this was right. For the last four months, I hadn't felt like I had a home. I had felt constantly out of place and honestly, I had had a difficult time adjusting to the culture.

But as I lied there in his arms, it was as though the past four months had washed away. I was home now. He was home now.

And then, suddenly, I realized that I didn't need six months to figure us out. He was it for me—he had always been it for me and I knew that it wasn't ever going to change. Perhaps I would be taking a giant leap, but, after all, what was life without a little risk? I was almost positive he felt the same way about me, so I was willing to chance it.

"Hey Tommy?"

"What is it, girl?"

"Would you still happen to have that ring on you?" I asked quietly, feeling my nerves getting the better of me. I was horrified as I heard my own voice shaking.

"No."

I swallowed, trying to ignore the disappointment and hurt that was flooding through me. I had definitely been wrong. But, I guess we would just have to go at his pace. I had to remember that it was him that had gotten hurt this time. I tried my best to make my voice steady as I responded with a simple, "Okay."

And then he said something else. Something that was very unexpected for me. "I got a new one."

A wide smile grace my lips and I felt him chuckling silently as he reached into his pocked. Wordlessly, he took my hand and slid the ring so effortlessly onto my finger. My breath hitched in my throat when I lowered my hand and saw what he had just adorned my ring finger with.

"Do you like it?" he whispered.

"It's breathtaking. Thank you."

From the corner of my eye, I saw him smile as he leaned his head forward. "Welcome home, Big Eyes."

And I was.


End file.
